


you're it

by xjooheonx (jooheon)



Category: B1A4, VIXX
Genre: M/M, alternate title: 'i know when that hotline bling', gratuitous voicemails, hongbin's gay panic, set vaguely in canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 06:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7497852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jooheon/pseuds/xjooheonx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>hongbin and chanshik play one long game of phone tag: running, hiding, dancing around the heart of the matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're it

**Author's Note:**

> this is sort of old but i still have a lot of feelings about these two. fingies crossed vixx and b1a4 have overlapping promotions again this year so we get more sweet sweet gongbin interactions lol.

“ _hongbinnie_.” chanshik’s sing-song voice, playing back fuzzy on hongbin’s phone. “ _hongbinnie-yah. you should pick up your phone. are you asleep or are you pooping? i bet you take your phone into the bathroom when you poop. i bet you’re sleeping. i’m bored. hongbin-ah. call me back._ ”

there are also six new text messages from chanshik, that hongbin scans quickly, pursed lips cracking into a helpless smile. getting messages from chanshik tends to do that to him. especially when one of them includes an attachment, a picture of a potato in the supermarket that looks like it’s screaming, captioned with the poop emoji and: _choco’s face taking a poo >:) _

it’s been a few hours now. hongbin _was_ asleep, phone on silent in his pocket during the long, rush-hour van ride back to jellyfish. now that he’s got a few minutes before they have to start practice, he dials chanshik’s number.

“what the hell, chanshikkie.” his tone is soft and teasing. “what’s the point in calling you back when you don’t even pick up? i guess you’re not bored to death after all. just needy, mm? but let’s hang out soon. i’m free on thursday, so we can play~”

hongbin laughs, suddenly. “i guess i could’ve just texted you. but i get bored too, ahh… chanshik-ah, what should i do… i can’t believe you didn’t pick up. oh well. call me, i guess, if you get this message.”

it’s always like this when vixx gets busy: the members don’t really have a ton of other celebrity friends, but meeting up with them during promotions becomes a big to-do. they’re always playing phone tag, trying to match the free spaces in schedules like intricate puzzle pieces. hongbin and chanshik were supposed to hang out a week ago, but b1a4’s recording had run late and by the time it had ended vixx had been in the middle of a v-app broadcast. and by the time _that_ had ended chanshik had boarded a bus down to busan for a fanmeet. and so on. trying to get in touch and meet in person would feel like a real pain in the ass if hongbin actually had the energy to process emotions normally right now (he doesn’t). when vixx is promoting, being camera-ready, dimple-smile-and-chocolate-abs hongbin is priority number one, and being sweatpants-all-day, ramyun-for-every-meal lee hongbin is something of an afterthought. it’s just, talking to chanshik is one of those things that snaps him out of autopilot and makes him smile while his heart beats fast.

because the thing is, they’ve known each other for over a year but their friendship seems to have stalled in that giddy, i-just-met-you-and-this-is-crazy honeymoon phase: they get excited just texting each other, they brag about knowing each other, they’ll take the time to absorb each other’s little quirks. even bone-tired and running on fumes at three in the morning, hongbin will still feel a little thrill at the prospect of smoothing through the kinks in their busy days just for the chance to grab dinner together.

“hongbin’s boy toy,” is how the other members refer to chanshik. they claim hongbin’s acting exactly like he did back in their trainee days when he was wildly pursuing an illicit relationship with a female trainee under a different label.

“how’s your boyfriend doing?” they’ll say when hongbin’s too wrapped up in smiling foolishly at his phone to pay attention to his surroundings. “is your boy toy more important than us, hm?”

hongbin has learned not to rise to their bait, to just nod or smile or shrug. because if he doesn’t – if he blushes and says too loudly, “he’s not my _boyfriend_!” or even if he rolls his eyes and mutters “what are you talking about?” – they’ll pounce. wonshik is the worst, for some reason, maybe because he’s not over the top about it, like jaehwan. jaehwan will chortle and yell and poke hongbin in the cheek, ruffle his hair, but wonshik will just get this look in his eyes like he _knows_ something, and if hongbin tries denying anything he’ll raise his eyebrows theatrically and look pointedly away when he knows hongbin’s watching and it’s just – ugh.

“if you have something to say to me,” hongbin will start.

“no,” wonshik will say, voice light and airy, “no, i’m not saying anything.”

it’s obvious that the others are just joking, but with wonshik, hongbin feels like maybe he’s half-serious with his insinuations. and that bothers him, partially because wonshik is the one who knows him best, and partially because it’s not like he’s gay, but –

he’s not gay, but the fluttering sensation in his chest when chanshik lights up, eyes crinkling, and leans into him to laugh is eerily similar to the way it’d felt that one time in ninth grade when kim haeyeon had whispered “i like you, too” and let him kiss her soft and slow. except with haeyeon, the butterflies and the burning and the feeling like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest had sort of tapered off, faded out after they’d dated for about two weeks; this thing with chanshik just goes on. hongbin expects that any day now, he’ll react to like chanshik like he would anyone else, that he’ll start thinking of him like he thinks of his members: objectively very cute, sure, but not in, like, a _sexual_ way.

and hongbin’s not gay, but sometimes he thinks about chanshik in a sexual way. it’s not that he wants to have sex with chanshik, necessarily, but sometimes he just looks at the tight cling of chanshik’s jeans to his ass, or the lines of his lean, fit torso, or the perfect curl of his lips, and he just. _thinks_ about stuff. like what kind of shapes chanshik could twist himself into, naked; what kind of faces he’d make. what he’d sound like. it’s not hard to imagine, because chanshik is pretty out there a lot of the time. once in a while chanshik will put on this overly exaggerated blowjob routine when he’s eating something even remotely phallic shaped, and hongbin will force himself to laugh so it’s not weird, but on the inside he’ll be thinking: _has he ever – for real – ?_

and then he’ll brush the thought away, because, what does he care, right? he’s not _gay_.

 

 _“seriously? hongbinnie! i specifically asked when you’d be done filming, and you said seven, and here it is seven-oh-six and you’re not answering your phone? it’s like you hate me or something. or maybe i jumped the gun. watch, in like five minutes you’ll_ actually _be done with filming and you’ll call me back. you better call me back, okay? or else i’ll really think you hate me!_

_“ha ha, i’m kidding. i know you love me, hongbinnie~!_

_“but seriously though, just call me back. ah, i should’ve just waited a little bit before i called you, but… haha. i couldn’t wait. and now i can’t even remember what i wanted to talk to you about! i just felt like talking or something._

_“but we’re still on for tomorrow night, right? this time for real! by the way, all the members said they’re gonna be busy doing something else, filthy traitors, so it’ll just be me. but that’s the way you like it, right~? you get me all to yourself!_

_“someone is knocking on the door. did i tell you – don’t laugh – i’ve been having to lock myself in the bathroom when i call you? my members are the worst, they tease me like nobody’s business if i even mention you. whatever, i don’t care._

_“it’s baro. he’s saying he really has to take a shit, so i’ve gotta go. but i’ll see you tomorrow._

_“but you should still call me back!”_

 

as he’s getting ready to leave, hongbin passes wonshik and taekwoon lounging idly in the living room, both on their phones with the tv playing in the background.

“do you want to go grab dinner with me and chanshik?” hongbin asks. “either of you?”

wonshik looks up from his phone. “junghwan’ll be there too?”

“no,” hongbin says. “chanshik said the rest of them are busy, so – “

“then no thanks,” wonshik says. he’s doing the eyebrow thing again. “being around you two when you’re all flirting and shit would ruin my appetite.”

“okay, fuck you,” hongbin says casually and turns to taekwoon. “hyung…?”

without even looking up or taking out his headphones, taekwoon shakes his head.

“alright, that’s fine,” hongbin says. “i’ll see you guys later, then, i guess.”

“don’t be out too late,” wonshik calls as hongbin’s stepping into his shoes.

“have fun on your date,” taekwoon chimes in, out of nowhere.

hongbin walks out the door, and doesn’t bother to correct him.

 

_“chanshik-ah, where are you? i guess you might be driving or something. in which case i forgive you for not answering your phone. i’m just calling because i’m here, i’m outside the restaurant. i left early, i guess. and you probably left late. so i’ve got time to kill~_

_“this is stupid because i’m gonna see you in like five minutes, haha. i just wanted to look like i was doing something and not loitering like a hoodlum and… i thought i would call and ask where you are but obviously you want me to suffer out here talking to myself! i bet you heard your phone ring and saw it was me and decided to leave me hanging because i missed your call last time, even though that was_ not _my fault._

_“or maybe we’re just destined to always miss each other’s calls. the universe playing a cruel joke on us. haha._

_“oh, wait. i think i see you. yeah. you’re waving. you look like a dumbass. all right, bye, i’m so glad you’re finally here!”_

 

chanshik suggests noraebang after dinner.

“i said i wouldn’t be out late,” hongbin says hesitantly even as he’s following chanshik across the street.

“i don’t care,” chanshik says. he has this self-confident smirk that he pulls out when he knows he’s already won; he’s wearing it now. “when’s the next time we’ll get to hang out like this?”

soon, probably. promotions are ending in less than two weeks, and then they’ll both probably have more free time on their hands than is good for them. but hongbin shrugs and smiles and says, “okay. yeah, noraebang, why not.”

maybe it’s the beer talking. he isn’t drunk, exactly, but he definitely isn’t sober, the way chanshik had been ordering drinks nonstop, and knocking them back seemingly unaffected, tilting hongbin’s cup and egging him on. “catch up!” he’d say, and with every sip and every smile it got harder for hongbin to say no, so here they are. walking in a not-quite-straight line to the closest noraebang, voices a little too loud, boosted by the alcohol. hongbin’s head is swimming a little in the good way, and chanshik is giggling very close by his side. hongbin’s arm has found its way around chanshik’s shoulders, he realizes belatedly. chanshik’s got a hand tucked comfortably into the back pocket of hongbin’s jeans.

chanshik cajoles him into buying a bottle of soju before they start singing, and so they don’t even look at the song selection console, just take shots and laugh. and the warmth that started in hongbin’s head has now enveloped his entire body, and his limbs are light, and chanshik is sitting across from him but very close in the dark booth and hongbin suddenly flashes back to middle school and kim haeyeon singing one boa song before reaching for him in a stuffy booth not unlike the one he’s in right now, and he’s drunk, so nothing stops him from asking plainly:

“gong chanshik, what are your intentions towards me?”

the pale blue from the tv’s standby screen washes over half of chanshik’s face. unreadable. for one lurching second, hongbin wants to blurt “just kidding!” and take it back, try to gloss over this moment so they can both forget it when they’re sober, but then chanshik says,

“why, what are yours towards me?”

“towards you?” hongbin says slowly. “i’ve never had _intentions_ , but things just keep happening anyway. i don’t know. wonshik says we flirt with each other. do we? is that what we’re doing?”

“that’s definitely what i’m doing,” chanshik says, leaning forward, his mouth only centimeters from hongbin’s face, so that hongbin can practically taste the liquor on his breath in each exhale. “if you want me to stop, i will.”

“oh,” hongbin sort of squeaks. “no, it’s – i’m – if you – i mean, i – ”

chanshik laughs. “god, hongbinnie,” he says, “i really want to kiss you right now.”

everything is far too hot. hongbin’s face might spontaneously combust at any moment. “okay.”

“okay, i can kiss you?” chanshik says brightly.

hongbin feels like maybe this is what they’ve been building up to this whole time, maybe from the day they met and chanshik had beamed just as wide with the cameras off and said, “sure, let’s exchange numbers,” and texted him less than a day later. maybe they were always walking the path of more-than-friends, and maybe in the back of his mind hongbin always knew that, because maybe he _is_ gay, a little bit, when it comes to chanshik. because having chanshik right here, saying he wants to kiss, is making hongbin’s heart race, making his palms clammy, making it really, really hard to think that he could ever come back from this, the thrilling tension and adrenaline of this moment right here.

so, fuck it.

“yes,” he whispers, and that’s all it takes for chanshik to close the gap and kiss him, deep and slow, like he wants to savor it, like he’s been dreaming of this. maybe he has. hongbin never had any fantasies about making out with another guy in a noraebang, but maybe he should have, because this is awesome. chanshik is a better kisser than he is, and he loses himself to the sensation of chanshik’s mouth hot and wet, and chanshik’s hands blazing trails across his skin.

“i really like you, by the way,” chanshik says, after a while. somehow, he’s maneuvered himself onto hongbin’s lap, with his hands curled around the nape of hongbin’s neck. the sounds of other people singing filter in from the hallway, and hongbin realizes foggily that if anyone were to just open the unlocked door to the booth, his entire career, possibly his entire life, would be over.

“we probably shouldn’t do this,” he says.

“probably not,” chanshik agrees, and kisses him again.

 

the phone rings right as hongbin’s getting out of the shower. towel wrapped around his waist, he trots over to where it’s charging next to his bed.

“hello?”

“oh!” chanshik sounds surprised. “you actually picked up.”

“yeah,” hongbin says. chanshik’s voice is, on the one hand, nice to hear, it’s comforting. and on the other hand it’s kind of a wake up call: _time to deal with the fallout of drunk hongbin’s poor life choices!!_

“it’s like three am, i wasn’t sure if you would.” there’s a weird echo on chanshik’s side, and hongbin has to laugh a little as he grabs a pair of pajama bottoms from the dresser.

“are you calling from your bathroom again?” he says.

“don’t laugh,” chanshik warns, “i waited for everyone else to finish in here before i could call. all for _you._ show some gratitude.”

“thanks,” hongbin says sarcastically. he tucks his phone between his shoulder and ear as he pulls the pajamas on. “you can’t see, but i’m rolling my eyes.”

“jerk,” chanshik says. then he clears his throat. “but, uh. i probably shouldn’t stay in here too long, so i just… wanted to talk a little bit, really quick, and like… clear the air?”

“uh,” hongbin says. all day, he’s been putting off thinking about this. he’d woken up with a devastating hangover and only a vague memory of getting home – a taxi, chanshik’s hand squeezing his thigh – and then it had been a full day of variety show schedules. really, it was all he could do to keep himself up and moving, smiling and laughing like he didn’t want to crawl in bed and sleep for an entire week. only now is he really going back over the events of last night in detail, remembering the slow slide of chanshik’s mouth against his own, the feel of chanshik’s ass in his lap. “yeah, we should talk.”

“just ‘cause like,” chanshik goes on. “last night, we were both drunk, and like. we both said some stuff, and – “

“what’d _i_ say?” hongbin says, alarmed. he honestly doesn’t recall them doing a lot of talking last night.

“you said that you weren’t gay,” chanshik says. “like. multiple times.”

“i’m,” hongbin says. he doesn’t really remember it, but that sounds like him. even if his 100% certainty of the fact of his not-gayness has dropped to about a 40%. “yeah, i did say that.”

“you must have already guessed it,” chanshik says haltingly. “but i. i mean, i’m, y’know. i like guys and girls.”

“you’re bi,” hongbin says. he climbs into his bed, cocoons himself in his comforter. he can hear the other members arguing about something in the living room, which is good. they need to stay distracted for a while. this isn’t the kind of conversation he can afford to be walked in on.

“that’s… yeah. so if that’s too, like, weird for you?” all of this hesitation is incredibly un-chanshik-like. “i mean i know i… we… last night was… what i’m saying is, you’re straight, so, whatever last night was, it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

chanshik’s giving him an out, a way to wipe the slate clean, preserve his heterosexual dignity. it’d be easy. all he has to do is agree, say, “yeah, let’s put it behind us.” what he says instead, though, is:

“what if i wanted it to mean something?”

because here’s the thing: hongbin isn’t gay. gay’s not allowed, not for idols, not for him. he’s supposed to like girls. and he _does_ , but he also likes chanshik. a lot. and this whole being-attracted-to-your-male-friend-who-also-happens-to-be-an-idol thing, it’s hard and confusing and horrible, but not nearly as horrible as the prospect of brushing off last night and pretending it didn’t happen, trying to salvage this friendship and watching it disintegrate into something distant and forced. or, worse, pretending it didn’t happen and having chanshik cut ties with him completely.

and he’d be the worst liar in the world if he said that chanshik’s _i really like you_ had meant nothing to him. it meant a lot, maybe too much.

“what…” chanshik’s voice goes quiet. “what are you saying?”

“i’m saying, you confessed to me last night, and i don’t want to just forget about it,” hongbin says. even over the phone this is hard. his ears are burning. “i know i went on about not being gay last night, but… i don’t know, lately i’ve been really confused. i don’t know what i am, but i know that i like you, too, so can we… just… work from there?”

everything is static as chanshik exhales loudly. “oh, fuck.”

hongbin’s heart is in his throat. “chanshikkie – ?”

“you,” chanshik chokes. he’s either laughing or sobbing. “you’re just, you’re _so_ ridiculous. fuck.”

“am i?” hongbin says cautiously. he hears a snort which means chanshik is almost definitely laughing, but it would be nice to hear a stronger confirmation that he hasn’t just made the biggest mistake of his young life.

“you really are,” chanshik sighs. “i’ve never been on a rollercoaster of mixed signals like you, lee hongbin.”

which, fair. that’s totally fair. hongbin gets how he could have been hard to read at times, but, still –

“i _just_ said that i liked you,” hongbin whines. “are you gonna date me or not?”

“oh,” chanshik says affectionately. “hongbinnie. yes. i will date the shit out of you. i’ll date you like you’ve never been dated before. i’ll date your fucking _brains_ out, i’ll – “

“okay,” hongbin says. “okay. i get it. and, chanshikkie, i… i’m sorry, i’m a mess. i – “

“don’t be sorry,” chanshik says quickly. “this whole thing is a mess. but you already asked me out. you can’t take it back. we’re gonna be secret lovers whether you like it or not.”

“i like it,” hongbin assures him, and then he hears footsteps. “i have to go now. are you free at all this weekend?”

“sunday, i think,” chanshik replies. there’s rustling, presumably as he gets up off the toilet seat of his bathroom.

“okay, cool. i wanna see you again soon,” hongbin says. he thinks of the softness of chanshik’s lips, allows himself to want even more. “fuck, i wanna see you.”

“sunday,” chanshik says again. “sunday night, yeah?”

“yeah, that works.”

“and in the meantime,” chanshik says, voice lilting and sweet, “i’ll call you.”


End file.
